


Glitter On The Floor

by IlliterateUnicorn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Bottom Castiel, Dancer Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Porn With Plot, Possessive Dean Winchester, Power Bottom Castiel, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:25:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlliterateUnicorn/pseuds/IlliterateUnicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel have been together for the better part of four years, and neither know exactly where it's going. Dean can clearly tell that his boyfriend is keeping something from him, and Castiel can't bare to tell his boyfriend what his profession really is after keeping it secret so long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glitter On The Floor

**Author's Note:**

> So, the power bottom Cas will be in part two, but there is smut in both parts. Also, I wrote something like this before in a prior fandom, if it seems familiar.  
> Unbeta'd.  
> Title from Take It Off by Ke$ha

It was an odd schedule, Castiel knew that much. Aside from his day to day job at a coffee shop in the better part of town - that was how he'd met Dean - he worked Friday, Saturday and Wednesday nights at Casa Erotica's Pin Up Palace. He hated the name, always had, but it paid decently enough, and had helped him get through school, and was currently helping him pay off his student loans, still. He'd met Dean four and a half years ago, and they were nearing their fourth anniversary. Castiel had yet to tell Dean about his second job.

They'd met on a Monday, just after two in the afternoon, and Castiel had been daydreaming when the slightly older man had walked in, ordering a large black coffee and a slice of pie, offering Castiel a wink before he'd gone to sit.

He'd returned every day for a few months, and Castiel had tried his best not to stare dreamily at the green eyed man, and he'd thought he'd been doing a good job, until Dean had come up to him one day, stating that if they both liked each other, they should go out on a date.They'd been together ever since. And, now, it felt like it'd been too long to tell Dean about the dancing.

At first, he hadn't thought to tell Dean about it; he was almost inhumanly gorgeous, and Castiel had thought it wouldn't last for more than a few weeks, and it'd be a nice fling he could think about in his later years. But, then Dean had to go and be a sweet, dorky, family oriented, grease stained, hopeless romantic, and the weeks had turned into months, which had then turned into years, and Dean had never even thought to ask Castiel about his job, just assuming that he worked at the coffee house full time.

"So?" Dean asked, and Castiel blinked at him, realizing that he'd gotten lost in thought at Dean's question.

"I-" he shut his mouth, unsure of what to say. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Dean furrowed his brow a bit, leaning a bit towards Castiel on the couch. "We've been going out for almost half a decade, and you apparently live in such a shitty apartment that you've never invited me over. What would the hassle of moving in with me be?"

"I just, um, well. It looks so nice hear, and it's not cluttered or anything, and if I brought too much of my stuff over, then it would just ruin it all." He waved a hand around them. "And well, I mean, what if you're brother wants to come stay with you?"

"Then he stays in the guest room like he always does." Dean shook his head. "And since when do you care about clutter?"

"Look, maybe I should g-"

"The fuck, Cas?" Dean cut in abruptly. "Why can't you move in with me?"

"I never sai-"

"Look, you love me, I love you, i don't fucking understand why you don't want to?" Dean asked, voice falling softer towards the end of his sentence, eyes searching his boyfriends face once he was done. Castiel held his stare for a moment, before looking away. Dean sighed, falling back against his couch.

"You're not married, are you?"

"What?" Castiel turned back to him. "God, no!"

"Then what could it possibly be that makes you want to... Not?"

"Dean," Castiel sighed, looking around the room. He caught sight of the clock, and shut his eyes. "I need to go."

"What?"

"I, um," Castiel shrugged helplessly. "Work."

"You don't work Wednesdays."

"Yea, I know, I just. Um, Zeke; he wanted me to take one of his shifts, something to do with a girl or something?"

"Fine, whatever." Dean stood, grabbing the box of half eaten pizza and two partially drank beer bottles from the table. He walked out of the room.

"Dean-" Castiel stood, but stopped himself, shaking his head. "I'll come by tomorrow, okay?"

"If you want." Dean snapped. Castiel walked to the door and slipped his shoes on, and grabbed his jacket. He leaned into the kitchen. Dean was glaring out the window, shoulders tense.

"I love you." Castiel offered. He waited a moment, before sighing and leaving the apartment. He heard the lock click a moment later.

 

•

 

Dean leaned against the door for nearly ten minutes after Castiel had left. He knew - he'd known for at least a year and a half - that Cas was hiding something. He'd never really thought that much of it.

Cas was a pretty guarded guy. It had taken Dean months before he'd even realized that Cas had liked him, what with the near constant stoic expression on his face, and how he never responded to Dean's usual flirting tactics. The stores owner - a blonde girl named Jessica - had informed Dean that Cas was all but gone for "the green eyed, freckled, Adonis who always gets coffee and pie". Apparently, those were Cas' words. It had taken him even longer to get Cas to open up about his strict, religious upbringing, and the family that had disowned him when he'd not only come out of the closet, but wanted to study art history.

So, Dean had always figured it was no big deal. He'd figured the blue eyed man would open up to him eventually, when the time was right. And Dean had figured they had a solid enough relationship to ask Cas to move in. He spent most of his time at Dean's place anyways, but for the few nights he had to go home every week to make sure that no one had broken into the apartment, or that he hadn't gotten an eviction notice.

Dean had never thought much of it.

But now he was. It was always the same three nights; Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. He never talked about any friends that he hadn't met through Dean, and refused to even let Dean know his apartments address. He always came back smelling strongly of his ocean scented body wash, with an overall exhaustion in his body. The more Dean thought about it, the sicker he felt.

He tried shutting his eyes, shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts. When that didn't work, he grabbed his keys, and headed out side, setting his sights for the coffee shop.

 

•

 

Castiel walked into the club a bit under an hour later, after having took the city bus across town. He couldn't afford a car.

Ruby, a petite, slightly bitchy but overall nice, brunette was the first to see him. "And he comes bearing no hickies." She tsked at him. He rolled his eyes.

"Where's Anna?"

"Who's asking?" She asked. Castiel reached up to punch the bridge of his nose.

"I swear to God, Ruby-"

"I'm Satanic, dipshit."

"Ruby!" He snapped. "Just tell me where Anna is, or I swear to whatever higher power you worship, I will shave off your eyebrows in your sleep!"

"Sheesh, don't get your panties in a knot, she's in the back." Ruby raised her hand in surrender. "And, FYI, I could just draw my eyebrow back on."

"Thank you." He huffed out a breath, walking past where Ruby was sitting on the stage, stretching, and headed into the back. Anna was, as promised, in the back, notebook in her hand, presumably brainstorming new routines.

"Hey, Castiel, do you think we could convince Meg to-" she turned, and stopped talking. "Hey, are you okay?" Castiel merely shook his head, walking over to sit down next to her. She wrapped an arm around him. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Dean and I got into a fight." He breathed out.

"Oh, hon," she ran a hand through the back of his hair. "What happened?"

"He asked me to move in with him." He explained. There was a beat of silence, so he explained further. "He still doesn't know about all of-" he waved a hand out. "-this. How would I explain what I'm doing three nights a week?"

"Well," Anna started slowly. "You could always go with the truth?"

"And how would I go about that?" Castiel pulled away and stood up. "What would I say? _'Hey, Dean, so you know how we've been together for four years? Well, funny story, I've been taking my clothes off and dancing for money for six years_ '?" He paced around the small backstage area. "He'll hate me."

"You don't know that."

"And you don't know Dean." Castiel leaned against the wall.

"And whose fault would that be?" It was Bela. Castiel looked up to glare.

"I don't remember asking you, Bela."

"My advice comes free, friends only discount." She offered, walking over. "But, just know, if you've waited this long to tell him, it'll only be harder the longer you wait."

Castiel glared at her, but said nothing.

"Castiel, I have a new routine for you, Balth and Alfie to try out. They're both changing. Get back there, we open in an hour and a half, I want to see if you can get it started before then." Anna cut in, obviously feeling an argument coming on. Castiel nodded, walking out of the room to where two of the other male dancers were. He assumed Luke and Michael had either nothing new, or Anna had called them in earlier.

 

•

 

Dean parked the car in front of the coffee shop, and let out a breath of air, before sucking in a new one. He got out. Walking inside after six in the evening was odd. He'd done it a few times, but Cas usually took the day shifts.

It was fairly quiet, most people out eating something more than the soup or sandwiches that they offered here. Dean froze at the sight of Zeke behind the counter.

"Zeke?" He walked up. The other man looked just as shocked to see him.

"Dean? You know Castiel isn't working tonight, don't you?"

"Apparently not." Dean ran a hand over his face. "Fuck."

"Dean?" Zeke called his attention again. Dean glanced to him. "Is everything okay? Is Castiel okay?"

"Um, yea, I - I think so." He shook his head. "Shit, damn it, fuck."

"Um," Zeke looked a bit uncomfortable. "Is it... Is it anything that I could help with?"

"No, it's f-" Dean paused, about to turn away. "Actually, do you happen to have his address?"

"His address?" Zeke made a face. "Don't you know it?"

"Nah, Cas likes his privacy. We got into a fight, and he said he was taking your shift tonight, but he usually just goes to his own place on Wednesday's, so I figured he might've gone home."

"I don't know if I'm supposed to give out employees personal information." Zeke looked torn.

"Well, um." Dean sighed. "It's fine. Sorry to-"

"But Jessica would probably have my head if she found me responsible for the two of you breaking up..." He was walking to the back room. Dean grinned, and a moment later, Zeke was walking out with a light blue post-it note. He stuck his arm out, and Dean took it grateful my. "And remember, f anyone asks, you never got it from me."

"Rodger that, sir." Dean saluted him, backing out of the coffee shop and heading to his car.

He got inside, and started the engine up, grabbing his phone and putting the address into the maps, and following the directions. He stopped in front of an old, worn down looking building, that looked like it probably cost more to keep standing than it was actually worth.

He got out of the car, glancing around warily, and walking towards the building. He glanced to his left at a sound, only to look away at the sight of a man peeing against the front of the building.

He went to the panel of names, and buttons to buzz you in, trailing his finger down and stopping at C. Novak. He pressed it, holding it down for a moment. Nothing. He tried again, twice more, with the same result.

"Fuck, Cas." He muttered, glaring at the small name.

"You lookin' for someone?" A voice made him look up. It was an old, balding man.

"Um, do you know a Castiel Novak?" Dean asked.

"The guy in 4C, right?"

"Yea," Dean glanced at the list to check. "Him."

"Um, haven't seen him in months, kid." He offered with a shrug. "I mean, I'm usually down here from noon 'til just after two a.m."

"Why?" Dean tried not to make a face at the creepy man.

"People watching." He winked at Dean, who took a small step back. "But unless he comes and goes in the eight hours that I'm not down here, he'd have to be using the fire escape. And that's illegal."

"Fuck!" Dean snapped, kicking the wall.

"Hey! Don't damage the property, they'll raise rent if they have to do any repairs!" The guy shouted.

"Sorry."

"Who's 4C to you, anyways?"

"Never mind, do you know where he might be?"

"Well, I don't give random advice out to random people, sir." The man grinned. Dean sighed.

"I'm his boyfriend, alright?"

"Boyfriend?" The man whistled lowly. "Didn't think 4C did serious."

"Are you going to tell me where he might be?"

"That's quite a nice jacket you got yourself," the man leaned against the door jam. "Looks pretty expensive."

"You want me to pay you for information?"

"Unless you'd rather pay me for sex?"

"Ew, fuck." Dean pulled out his wallet, grabbing a twenty and offering it out. The man went to grab, and Dean pulled it back. "Where is he?"

"If he's in the area, he'd been in one of the clubs; you've got Abby's Lair, Casa Erotica's Pin Up Palace, and Crowley's. Or, if he's into it, our local BDSM club is-"

"Thanks for your information." Dean shoved the twenty towards the man before rushing outside. He muttered the names to himself.

Crowley's sounded the simplest, so he figured he'd start there, then Abby's Lair, before the Casa Erotica place, thinking that sounded a little out there for Cas, who had always been a bit more on the vanilla side.

 

•

 

"I look ridiculous." Michael whined loudly. Balthazar snorted a laugh.

"I think the word you were more looking for would be angelic." He offered. Michael glared at him, but Castiel had to agree. Michael was wearing a pair of light blue booty shorts, a white sheet over his body and tied around his waist, a pair of cheap white wings on his back, and a halo on his head, all topped off with a large abundance of glitter.

"Shut up, Balthazar. I thought the whole celestial being thing was Castiel's go to?"

"That's part of Friday's new act," Anna walked in, clad in black denim shorts, and a lacy black and red bra. "But for tonight, you and Luke are doing the angel and devil, and so are Bela and I."

"I honestly have no idea in what world Bela would be considered an angel," Meg piped up, walking over, counting some cash. She'd just gotten off the stage.

"Probably the same one in which Anna would be considered a devil," Gabriel, the clubs owner, came walking over. He rested a hand on Anna's lower back. "Except, of course, in the sheets."

"Dude, TMI." Meg made a face, rolling her eyes and waking out of the room.

"Oh, that reminds me." Anna pulled the gold band from her left hand. "I didn't put this in the ring box on my vanity before leaving the house-"

"Say no more, sugar lips." Gabriel took the ring from his wife, slipping it into his pocket and kissing her cheek. "And Ruby and Alfie are just finishing up. Bela is going out with Luke once for the angel devil thing, right?"

"And I'm going out with Michael once, and we're both going out in our homo-duos." Anna cast a glance to Luke as he walked in, he having been the one to start the nickname whenever people had dances between two of the same gender.

"And I will make sure to watch that one," Gabriel offered. "But I was sent back here for more vodka."

 

•

 

Dean was tired. He'd spent nearly an hour in each bar, trying to find Cas, with no luck. They were all crowded with drunk, handsy people.

Nowhere had opened until eleven, so he'd been stuck driving around for the first little while, and it was a bit after one thirty now, as he arrived at the third club. The line at the entrance was fairly short, less than ten people, the bouncer a pretty big guy.

The sign above the door was a bright, lit up, yellow thing that read _Casa Erotica Pin Up Palace!!_ and there were flyers littering the ground. Dean got out of the car and walked up to the line, staring up at the sign.

"Stupid name, right?" The bounced asked with a chuckle as Dean got to the door, handing him his ID and the admittance fee.

"Kinda, yea." Dean stuck his hand out for the stamp.

"Yea, Gabe came up with it, because he only hires people who he thinks look like they're worthy of being a pin up model." The man stepped aside for Dean.

Dean nodded at him, walking inside, and pausing for a moment to adjust. It was dark, and loud, and packed with bodies. No different than any of the others, really, except this one had a large stage with dancers on it - a girl with long dark hair, and a tall man with lighter hair, leaning back against the cleverly placed, just off to the side pole, wearing nothing but right, white boxers and a pair of suspenders. He was holding onto the pole as the girl all but used his body as a pole, sending winks out to a few of the people around the stage. Dean looked away.

He walked up to the bar, where a red headed girl in a tight purple dress was leaning over the counter, talking to the bartender.

Despite how she was sticking her ass out, they looked to be having a very serious conversation as he mixed drinks. She nodded as he handed her a tray, and she let him press a kiss to her cheek as he handed her a tray of drinks, and she slinked off through the crowd, disappearing into a door labelled ' _Staff & Dancers ONLY_'.

Dean went and ordered himself a beer, drinking it slowly as he wandered around the club, looking for the familiar head of dark, messy hair. He'd mistaken a number of people for Cas already that evening, and was in no mood to do it again, so he was being careful. He slipped through the crowd and around the edges of it.

Two girls - one dressed as an angel, the other a devil, came out, followed by a skinny little twink of a boy that they introduced as Samandriel.

Dean was having no luck in finding Cas. And then the stage went dark.

"What the fuck?" Dean hissed, the entire room going dark, a strobe of a bright light flashed across the stage for a moment, before it all went dark again.

"And now, ladies, gents, and everything in between," a voice came over head. "The nights closing act, our very own little fallen angel."

The light strobed across the stage again, this time outlining the silhouette of a man. Dean lifted his glass to his lips, glancing around the room. A lot of people were staring at the stage, a loud song with a heavy bass and a high, whiny voice singing over it. Dean glanced back to the stage, the light flashing for two beats this time, and he choked, sputtering his own beer into his face.

While the man was facing away from everyone, Dean caught the familiar marking; just on the inside of Cas' right shoulder blade, between his spine and shoulder blade, was a cross about the size of Dean's palm that had been cut into his skin by Cas' father, then burned shut with a metal brand. It was very distinct, right down to the light scarring around it from when Cas had scratched too much at the fresh wound, when he was just sixteen.

And, it was on the guy on stage. Which would make him Cas. And by default, that would mean that Cas was a dancer.

At a strip club.

"You new here?" Some guy asked Dean, voice just detectable over the beat of the music as the lights came to life, illuminating the stage. It was most definitely Cas.

"What?" Dean turned his head, keeping his eyes on the stage. Cas was in a pair of white, ripped pants, stained with red, and a tie around his neck as he gently moved his hips to the beat of the song.

"You never seen him before?" The man asked, laughing a bit.

"Um, no." Dean shook his head, swallowing heavily as Cas turned, eyes shut calmly as he toyed with the tie with one hand, other hand over the front of his pants, thumb down the waist.

"Clearly," the guy scoffed. "Just don't get your hopes up."

"What?" Dean finally turned. The guy next to him had shaggy hair and a light trace of stubble.

"Inias." He offered his hand. People were shouting at the stage now. Dean didn't want to look.

"Dean." He shook the mans hand. "And what's this about getting my hopes up?"

"The guy you're currently eye fucking on the stage?" Inias asked, raising an eyebrow. Dean glanced back over. Cas had his white pants undone, revealing black and red boxers - booty shorts? - underneath, the tie loosely undone, the knot sitting just below his collar bone. "Don't get your hopes up."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean turned to glare at the guy. He could totally take him in a fight.

The guy snorted. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. If it was a few years ago - like, four or five, maybe? - then I'd be competition, maybe." The guy glanced back to the stage, a hungry look in his eyes that made Dean want to punch him.

"But now?"

"Dudes fucking celibate." Inias scoffed as he took a sip of his drink. "Like, fuck, man. He used to work almost every night, and go home with someone new each time. Then, suddenly the star attraction is down to three nights a week, and won't even dance with any of us. I think it's a great idea, mind you."

"A great idea?"

"Yea, probably one of the owners decided to force him to tone it down. Everyone wants him twice as bad, now."

"He's been... How long?" Dean was watching now, as Cas slowly made his way around the edge of the stage, having lost his pants some time ago, and was barely staying out of the grasp of grabby hands, cleverly avoiding slipping on the cash that littered the stage, keeping his eyes almost completely shut, face almost stoic as he let his hips grind and thrust in the air to the beat of the music, before he dropped to his knees.

"At least four years, why?" Inias tried.

"Just, um. I need to go." Dean stood, leaving his still partially filled glass of beer on the counter and rushing through the crowd. He sucked in a breath of air, head spinning.

He wasn't sure if it was arousal, possessiveness, or a mix of the two. Probably both. He was painfully hard in his jeans, and was a bit upset that Cas hadn't told him, but went to his car anyways.

He had no idea how he was supposed to address Cas about this.

 

•

 

It was a bit before noon, and after taken a bus across town, Castiel had stopped off at Dean's favourite burger joint, before heading to his apartment.

He had the paper bag in his hand, and made his way upstairs nervously, glad that he had a key to the place. He'd had it since their first anniversary.

"Dean?" He called out as he pushed the door open, stepping inside. "Dean? You ho-" He was being pressed back into the door, mouth on his. He dropped his key and the bag of food, hands going up to Dean's jaw, mouth easily accepting the kiss.

Dean was running his hands up and down Castiel's arms and sides, gently digging his fingers into the flesh through the fabric of Castiel's shirt. Castiel felt a whine falling from him, at how Dean seemed to be forgoing his usual gentle nature, positioning a thigh between Castiel's own, grinding harshly against him. Castiel's head tipped back, smacking against the door as he tried to follow along with Dean's random grinding of hips, but he didn't seem to have a rhythm to it.

"Dean," Castiel breathed, trying to pull Dean's face up from where it had moved on to sucking bruises into his neck - Anna was going to kill him - but Dean just grunted out a noise, biting at the skin. Castiel felt like his legs were made of jello. "Oh god, Dean, please," Castiel tipped his head down, and Dean moved up to kiss him, hands sliding up to grab Castiel's wrists, moving to pin them up above his head. Castiel groaned, trying to rock his hips forwards. Dean pressed him back to the door, stilling all movement.

"Wrap your legs around my waist." Dean spoke, pulling back just enough to speak against his lips.

"I can't-"

"Cas." Dean all but growled out, so Castiel started trying. He didn't have much leverage, or any room to jump, while Dean continued to assault his mouth with his own. It was all overwhelming, and Castiel's head was swimming. And then Dean was releasing his hands to reach down, cupping his ass and lifting him up, so he could properly wrap his legs around the taller mans waist.

Dean ground their hard cocks, confined and restrained by far too many layers, harshly against each other as soon as they were positioned correctly.

"Hold on tight." Dean muttered, and before Castiel had a chance to ask, Dean was stepping back from the front door, and Castiel had no choice but to follow the directions that had been given to him. So he did, pressing his face into Dean's neck and inhaling, mouthing weakly at the skin until he was dropped unceremoniously onto the bed. He went to slide back, but Dean was pulling him towards the edge of the bed as he tried to drag his pants off. It worked easily, and he was already commando. Dean pressed a few kisses to his hips and stomach as he started pushing his shirt up, until it was stuck under Castiel's armpits, and he was otherwise naked. And they were kissing again. It didn't feel as rushed anymore, Dean still holding his hips tightly, as he slowed the pace of their mouths, still grinding his denim clad hips down on Castiel's bare ones. It was a bit painful, the rough material on his sensitive skin, but he spread his legs further anyways, trying to draw Dean in more.

Dean just continued to kiss him, angling his head as he licked into Castiel's mouth, giving him easier access to kiss. He pulled away slowly, nipping gently at Castiel's lower lip before he sat back. Castiel went to follow him, but Dean stopped him, tugging his shirt off the rest of the way, before pushing him back down to lay against the mattress. Castiel stared up, chest heaving. Dean pulled his own shirt over his head before leaning back down to press their mouths back together, Castiel reaching up to wrap his arms around Dean's broad shoulders, pulling him as close as he could. Dean reached out, grasping blindly for the bedside table, trying to focus on kissing Castiel within an inch of his life, while grabbing for the bottle of lube.

Castiel turned his head away, mind swimming from the arousal and lack of oxygen. Dean glanced up for a moment, before his attention fell to Castiel's neck, and sucking a large bruise into the base of it. Castiel barely registered the click of the bottle of lube, before there was a finger pushing past his rim. He gasped, turning his head to his mouth was against Dean's temple. The finger inside of his pumped slowly in and out, wiggling around. The pad of it barely brushed over his prostate, before it was disappearing, and being pushed in alongside a second.

Castiel pulled Dean's face back up to his own, kissing the side of his mouth messily and biting gently at the skin. Dean scissored his fingers as they moved inside of him, breathing heavily against Castiel's mouth, trying to catch it in a kiss. Castiel kept crying out, and groaning when Dean's finger brushed past his prostate, ever so gently. Before he knew it, a third and fourth finger were added, and he had tucked his face into Dean's shoulder, all but sobbing in pleasure as he clung to the man above him. Dean pulled the fingers out, and he whined at the loss. Dean sat back, pulling from Castiel's arms, and looking down at him. Castiel blinked up at him, entire body thrumming as Dean just stared, chewing on his lower lip.

He stood, pulling his jeans and boxers down, before returning to his spot between Castiel's legs. He reached down, holding them open, hands gentle on the inside of his thighs.

"Dean-" Castiel reached out, intent on pulling his boyfriend back down. Dean grabbed his hands, locking their fingers together and leaning forwards, reaching Castiel's hands above his head as he ground their hips together again, mouthing gently at Castiel's jaw. Castiel felt his toes curling at Dean's sides. "Please - _God, fuck_!"

Castiel cried out, Dean adjusting so he held both of Castiel's hands in one of his, the other reaching down to position himself, and slide slowly in, until he was bottoming out. Castiel felt his head drop back in a groan.

"You okay?" Dean asked, bringing his hand up to turn Castiel's chin up, moving so they were face to face. In the mid-day lighting, Castiel could see faint flecks of gold this close in Dean's eyes.

"Yea," Castiel nodded, voice rougher than he'd realized it had gone. "M'good."

"Good." Dean grinned, before releasing his hands and leaning back. Castiel blinked in confusion, until Dean was holding his hips, lifting them up a bit, and starting to fuck into him in earnest. His back arched as Dean managed to hit his prostate dead on on the second try, hands clasping into the pillows under his head, mouth falling open. "That good?" Dean asked, voice breathy as he continued to fuck the blue eyed man.

Castiel nodded his head quickly, eyes shut as he tried to maintain his stream of thought. Dean had never really manhandled him, and he hadn't realized that he'd missed this kind of stuff.

"Hey." A hand on his chin jerked it down, and he blinked his eyes open. It took a moment for them to adjust, seeing Dean looking down at him. He stilled his hips, grinding a bit, a constant pressure on Castiel's prostate. "Keep your eyes on me, alright?" He stilled completely. Castiel nodded harshly, forcing his eyes to stay open as Dean started back fucking him again.

He could feel the moans and cries falling from himself, but couldn't manage to hear them over the blood pounding in his head. He wanted to reach up, pull Dean down closer, but couldn't manage to make his fingers release the pillow. Dean's hand around his cock made him jerk into the touch.

"Like that, babe?" Dean grinned down at him, leaning forwards, resting his weight on one hand, pressing it down next to Castiel's head. He still wasn't close enough. "You gonna come?"

" _Dean_." He groaned.

"Yea, c'mon babe, come like this. Look so hot, all sweaty and fucking breathless. Love you like this, love you so much." Dean was fucking him with long, slow thrusts now. It was intoxicating. "Love you,"

Castiel tried to breathe out. "Love you, too. So much."

"Then you know what, Cas?" Dean leaned down to press his lips to Castiel's jaw, right in front of his ear. "Come." He did, with a noiseless cry, feelings tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, head spinning as the white hot flash of pleasure washed over him.

He slumped back in the bed a moment later, body shaking as Dean continued fucking into him hard and fast, chasing after his own release.

"C'mon, Dean," Castiel murmured, reaching an arm up to loosely wrap around Dean's shoulders, nuzzling his face against the skin where his neck and shoulder met, mouthing at his collarbone. "Love you, love you so much. So, so much."

"Yea?"

"Mhm, so much. Always, love you al-" Castiel stopped talking as Dean let out a low groan, ducking his head down to catch Castiel's mouth in a kiss as he came, emptying himself into Castiel.

As he slowly pulled out, Castiel let out a soft noise of discomfort. Dean shushed him with a kiss, going to stand. Castiel pulled him back down. "I need to get a cloth, babe." Dean muttered.

"We can sh'wer later, cuddle now." Castiel muttered, clinging onto Dean and ignoring the discomfort of cooling sweat and drying come between them, as he dozed off lightly.


End file.
